Once More with Feeling
by Flora Winters
Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun.  He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece.  Language, MM, OC Violence
1. Chapter 1

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter One**

_A warm breeze whipped through his dark locks and his smile somewhat faltered into a look of confusion. He never knew he'd been struck in the head by a flying, spinning wooden discus that had been purposefully speeded up and knocked off its intended trajectory by a single jealous, vengeful breath. His beloved was screaming his name, but he could not hear him. His slender form slowly crumpled to the warm ground amidst pale purple flowers where he lay motionless on his beautiful, blood soaked face. Nor did he feel the strong hands lifting him up to be cradled in powerful arms and against a naked, warm chest as the golden sun above was blown out like a candle before bedtime._

OOOOO

Whenever it stormed, the power always failed. It was something Jacinth Snow was quite used to. He always had candles and matches handy whenever there was so much as a dark cloud spotted drifting along the horizon.

He lit several green and blue ones and the smaller silver and gold ones on the table where the precious photo of his mother resided. His bedroom was cast with dancing shadows as he gazed out his rain splattered window.

The weather had been just like this when his mother's car had slid off the road and rolled down a steep hill.

Jacinth hated storms. He thought them ugly, hateful things. They were mean and nothing good ever came from them. A storm had taken his mother away from him. If it hadn't been storming, her car never would have slid in the first place.

Turning away from the black and white photo of his smiling mother, he gazed around his now empty bedroom. All of his bags and boxes were now piled into the back of his dad's large van. His mother's photo would be one of the very last items he would walk out of his old house with.

Moving to a new place was going to be hard. New faces belonging to new people he was going to have to find a way to get along with one way or another.

New schools were the absolute worst. He was always the new kid having to introduce himself. He had all those eyes looking at him, judging him right there on the spot without even giving him a chance. Just thinking about what he was going to have to put up with in a few days only caused him to get even more upset.

"Hello." He greeted the bare wall before him, pretending different shades of eyes burned into him. "My name is Jacinth Snow and my dad is the new mythology teacher. He is also the guy who owns the freaky little shop downtown with all the weird stuff in it, but don't mind him, he's practically harmless, unless you don't know how to spell and write in complete sentences. Oh, back to me. I so love talking about me. I'm a Gemini, my favorite color is gold and I enjoy Greek food. I dislike idiots because there is no hope for them and canned biscuits scare me."

Pursing his lips, he crossed his arms over his chest.

He hated his life. That was all there was to it.

He took a seat in the floor on the sleeping bag he had put down earlier and sighed out loud. Thunder boomed over his dark head and rain sang against the stained glass window.

All he wanted was a normal life. He wished his dad would give up all this silly mythology, ghost hunting, occult nonsense and just be an average father. He longed for him to join the real world.

Instead of being taught how to throw a baseball without breaking the other's guy's face, he was being taught how to hold a quartz pendulum absolutely still. Instead of being taught how to toss a football without causing a twenty car pileup (no joke, it happened), he was being taught how to summon forth the dead to suffer through his rants, ravings and teenage angst.

Screaming at his dad never worked. It just caused him to go hoarse and eventually lose his voice. He just wanted to tell him there are no such things as ghosts, gods and other stupid nonsense.

His mom was no ghost. She was gone. She had left them and she wasn't coming back. Ever! She had left them both. He wanted his dad to leave it alone. He was tired of it being dragged back up over and over again.

But, at odd moments in the daylight or midnight hours, he would smell his mom's sweet perfume. Even in all the new places they had moved to, too. He would smell the fresh scent of blooming hyacinths. His mom had always smelled of them and kept them growing throughout their old house. He remembered her having these beautiful purple ones, the very color of the violet eyes she had given him. He had wanted to keep her elaborate perfume bottle, but his dad hadn't let him and now he knew why. Even now, when he did catch a haunting whiff of her perfume, it hurt him to turn around and not see her standing there with a smile on her beautiful face.

He sniffed the air, slipped on his headphones and pushed play on his IPod. He loved Siouxsie and the Banshees. His mom had had excellent taste in music.

_At the close of day_

_The sunset cloaks_

_These words in shadow play_

_Here and now_

_Long and loud_

_My heart cries out_

_And the naked bone of an echo says_

_Don't walk away_

Tomorrow was going to be a very long and busy day, and he dreaded it like the plague.

A new town. A new house. A new school. A whole new life.

He hoped (just for once) he'd be able to make a new friend. A real friend. Someone he would be able to relate to and trust above all others.

But, he wasn't going to hold his breath. The chances of that becoming a happy reality were very slim. He'd have much better luck at winning the lottery or being raped by one of his dad's mythological gods.

_Reach out your hands I'm just a step away._

He put his head back down on his pillow and closed his eyes. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner his next life could begin. He just hoped and wished with all his might on the hidden Evening Star that it was going to be better than the one he was leaving behind in the dust.

OOOOO

"Ladies, gentlemen and children of all ages, let me assure you once more and right now, this is no hoax. What you are indeed viewing on your large or small television screens is very, very real. I repeat myself once again, this is no hoax, America. What you are looking at in HD is being shot live at the Mojave Desert in Southern California."

The startling images flashing across the little television screen had more power to hold his gaze than the frightening images of 9/11. Jacinth's morning cup of hot Caramel Apple Spice from Starbuck's ended up in the floor when his dad's loud 'WHOOP' scared the hell out of him.

A powerful earthquake and sandstorm had unearthed what appeared to be a titanic skull. The thing looked to be the size of a small moon with eye sockets as big as the world's largest football stadium.

"This is incredible, America. Have we just discovered a biblical giant or a mythological titan of ancient Greece?" The lady news reporter in pink asked all her early morning viewers across the nation. "And details are still pouring in. Apparently the skull has what appears to be a gaping mouth full of fangs the size of ten…even twenty story office buildings."

Jacinth couldn't believe what he was actually seeing with his own two eyes. There was no way this could be real. This had to be some kind of publicity stunt for a new movie or television series.

"I've been right all along," his dad kept muttering, looking from him back to the television and back to him again in an excited manner. "They all laughed at me, but I've been right all along. Ancient myths are based on facts."

Jacinth caught himself actually wondering if there was a body attached to the thing somewhere deep underneath all that shifting sand.

But, no!

This was a hoax.

This had to be James Cameron's doing. Only he could fake something on such a grand scale as this.

Well, there was Lucas and Spielberg, too. They all three had the insanity to pull this off.

"What do you have to say for yourself now, Jay?" His dad asked, recording everything on the television with his IPhone. "All those fools who mocked me are going to be eating their shoes extra crispy and with lots of hot sauce. I'll see to it."

Jacinth continued to gawk at the screen.

_So much for normal…Damn it!_

**To be continued…**

**Please review and tell me what you think. So far I have played God of War, Chains of Olympus and God of War II. I really want to play Ghost of Sparta and God of War III. Hopefully I will find the time soon. Anyway, this story is going to be lots of fun. I hope I get lots of reviews.**

**Flora**


	2. Chapter 2

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter Two**

Hidden from view, a set of eyes watched a sixteen year old boy and his scruffy father drive off and away from a now empty house. The eyes were ever-clear and the color of gentle moonlight on still blue waters.

Pale, sensual lips curved upwards into a ghostly smile and phantom silk hissed like a serpent's dancing shadow. All of her flawlessly designed pieces were now moving about and each one would soon snap into the place of her choosing.

With the three Sisters of Fate being now more, the needles were now hers to sew with and she was surprisingly good at it. It had been up to her to thread and stitch together that which was lost and weave something old in order to make things anew.

_This boy will be the one to fix my greatest mistake and then I will take revenge on the bug which took away my family. I will make that flee be no more. Not even a haunting memory will remain._

In a violent whirlwind of stinging sand, Aphrodite stood at the base of her grandfather's titanic skull. Causing the giant sandstorm and massive earthquake which had unearthed the remains of Cronos had winded the goddess, but that was nothing the Playboy Mansion, Las Vegas and Bangkok couldn't fix.

Her smooth flesh began to glow as if she were suddenly made of light on fresh fallen snow.

"_**Come forth,"**_ she spoke in the voice only the Goddess of Love had, commanding every denizen within the bowls of Cronos to come crawling and creeping out from the rotted depths.

The goddess smiled into the snarling, snapping faces of mythological horrors and terrors. She reached towards the nearest nightmare with supple arms and soon her moon white flesh was dripping with blood.

She went on a much needed smiting spree, draining the fading magic from anything she could sink her deadly talons into.

Soon, she was surrounded by twisted and twitching corpses.

Her beauty was fail and terrible to behold. Her insane laughter echoed, traveling down to the very toes of Cronos' corpse.

"Soon," she cackled, licking black blood from the tip of her index finger with a perfect pink tongue. "I'll have enough power to…"

But she was cut off by a loud roaring sound in the sky. She spun around with a venomous rattle, seeing what was called a helicopter.

With a snarl, she pointed her lovely finger and the loud chopper exploded in a large ball of orange flames, falling to earth with a shattering boom. The second explosion made her giggle.

She turned back to the gaping mouth of Cronos and called with her siren voice. _**"Come out, come out wherever you are!"**_

Unknown to the crazed goddess, the chopper had been recording with live feed. Across the nation, before the "technical difficulty," millions of viewers had witnessed a young woman fighting demons from what they assumed were crawling out through the Gates of Hell.

**To be continued…**

Please review and tell me what you think. I'm about to start playing Ghost of Sparta.

Flora


	3. Chapter 3

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter Three**

The roadside bar was in the middle of nowhere. Bone-Fucking-Egypt for all Jacinth cared. He couldn't actually bring himself to believe someone would take the financial risk of setting up a business on a lonely stretch of highway in a scorching hot desert. Even the cacti to his left and right looked as if they wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.

He pushed his bedazzled Ed Hardy sunglasses back up on the bridge of his aquiline nose with his long index finger and looked up at the ancient sign across the top of the establishment's door. The big capital letters were painted in a deep purple color and peeling in some places.

DANNY'S

Their shade reminded him of the thin layer of skin on a juicy, seedless grape. With a near silent groan, he rolled his violet eyes. The place was a dump. There was no way he was going to partake of any food here. He'd rather masturbate using a rusty doorknob…that was still attached to the door.

"Come on, Jay," his dad spoke, bringing him back to the land of the lame and retarded. "I want to see if there are any updates about that titan. I think I hear a television."

Before Jacinth could take a step, his dad was already inside and the door slammed shut in his face. He blinked several times and began to grind his teeth in order to keep himself from losing his temper.

That damn _thing_ was all his dad had talked about for two states.

"_Titans ruled the world long before the Olympians crawled out of their father's vomit. I often wondered why Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Hades and Hestia just didn't take the back passage when Cronos wasn't looking, you know."_

Luckily he'd had his IPod, so it was bearable…for the most part. Why didn't his dad just get that he didn't care about such things.

But, that _thing_ on the news had really freaked him out. In fact, it had actually spooked him to the point of fear. It was almost like…almost like he had and was still on the brink of remembering something really far off and gladly forgotten.

"Yo, kid," a deep, gruff voice spoke from behind him, causing him to jump and spin around.

The guy was tall. Really tall and he looked like he spent all of his time in the sun.

His skin was bronzed; deeply bronzed and he had his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He looked foreign, but sounded really, really American.

Jeans, wife-beater and leather boots.

Jacinth couldn't tell how old he was. He could have been twenty. He could have been forty.

And he was handsome.

Cock hard and dripping handsome.

"Are you going to stand out here in this goddamn heat and catch fire or are you going to go in and sit down where it is cool?" The dark-eyed man asked him with big hands on his narrow hips.

Jacinth was hot, but it wasn't only from the sun's scorching rays. This was the kind of man he would often wish would come along and drag him into a darkened bedroom and do unspeakable things to his virgin flesh.

But, he didn't see this man naked. Instead, he saw him wreathed with flowering vines and his body was being torn limb from limb by invisible hands.

And he was screaming. He was screaming in such torment.

_Not again!_

"You okay, kid?" The guy asked, voice feigning concern. "You just turned three shades of white."

"I'm fine," Jacinth answered him, stepping to the side so he was no longer blocking the entrance to the bar. "Thank you."

The bronzed giant shrugged his broad shoulders.

"The last thing I need is for some kid to drop dead at my door. That sort of thing isn't good for business."

Jacinth cocked a delicate brow and spread his arms about. "What business?"

The lot was empty except for his dad's van.

The man's eyes narrowed. He looked to be biting his tongue, too.

"Vine," Jacinth said.

And the guy instantly looked spooked. Those dark eyes suddenly looked like a deer's caught in scary headlights.

"What?"

Jacinth took a step forward and stood on the tips of his toes. He reached up with his hand and pulled a piece of vine from the man's shoulder. It had gotten stuck to his black wife-beater.

"Oh, that," the guy said, sounding visibly relieved.

Jacinth held on to the tiny piece of vine. "You own this _place_?"

"Yes. I own this _place_."

He was about to ask where the vine had come from, but a loud crash and yelp coming from inside the bar stopped him.

The tall owner rushed by him in a blur and he quickly followed him inside. The guy stopped so suddenly in the doorway that Jacinth nearly ran right into him, so he had to peak his head around him in order to see.

His dad was sprawled across the bar cussing and there were broken dishes all in the floor. There was a television mounted up on the wall above the bar. He must have been reaching up to adjust it and had fallen.

"Who the hell waxes a marble countertop?" His dad fumed, not knowing he was being watched.

Up on the screen, Jacinth saw what millions of horrified American's were seeing.

A woman was fighting what looked to be monsters crawling out of the giant skull's fanged mouth. He then watched her turn, point right at the camera and then fuzz.

What he didn't see was the dark headed man's black eyes begin to glow a vibrant crimson.

Jacinth dropped the vine to the floor and he also didn't see how it slithered like s serpent across the wooden surface, coil up around the large man's leather boot, going inside.

If he could have read the mind of Dionysus, he would have heard, _**"My plates! Grandpappy? Has that dumb bitch lost her damn mind? I'm free now. I'm not going back. I won't! I WON'T!"**_

"Dad?" Jacinth asked, stepping around the silent giant. "Are you okay?"

His dad slid off the bar, stumbling across broken china.

"Terribly sorry about the dishes there," his dad told the guy who was still gawking up at the television screen in silence. "Does your father take plastic, young man?"

**To be continued…**

Please review and tell me what you think. I just beat Ghost of Sparta. It was really fun. Thanatos was sexy. I'd have his babies.

Flora


	4. Chapter 4

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter Four**

_The stars_

_The moon_

_They have all been blown out_

_You left me in the dark_

_No dawn_

_No day_

_I'm always in this twilight_

-Florence and the Machine (_Cosmic Love_)

**About a hundred thousand years ago…**

A young boy stood amidst roaring flames, looking down upon the golden feet of Helios. His lord's corpse was sprawled on the scorched ground in a pool of its own mess. The handsome head of the muscular God of the Sun had been twisted and pulled off from its powerful neck. Flesh torn and hideous to behold. Already, the flies were beginning to buzz rather noisily about the body.

Heaven above was darker than a deep cave. The sun was no more. Night and darkness covered the world. Upon the violent and brutal death of Helios, the sun had vanished like a candle flame from what would probably never be a blue sky ever again.

The boy had known his lord was no more when he had woken to find night had fallen upon the Palace of the Sun. It had terrified him because not so much as a shadow had ever been spotted in such a magnificent place before.

He had been all alone. Not a single servant was left. Without Helios, they could not exist and the place had started to crumble and collapse as he walked through it, haunted and tragic.

With tears in his violet eyes, he had begged Helios to let the Spartan be. The savage brute had the power to slay gods.

Already the monster had murdered Ares, Persephone, Thanatos, the Three Sister's of Fate and Athena. Why couldn't the two of them just stay at the Palace of the Sun and close the realm off to all outsiders? They would be safe. Nobody could have touched them.

"_I am the sun," Helios had smiled at him more brilliantly than a dazzling sunbeam dancing across the blinding white snow. "The Spartan will fall at my feet and I will piss on his ashes."_

Rage and hate filled the youth, causing him to tremble like leaves in a hard wind. He had nothing now, nothing at all.

He knelt in the pool of cold blood and gently turned Helios over before cradling the fallen god in his arms. "You will pay for this, Ghost of Sparta. The soul of your daughter will burn. For this she will never stop her screaming. I will see to it that she drowns in a sea of agony and you with no memories to help her."

In pain, he realized he could no longer glow. Without his sun, he had no light.

So, darkness he became.

His stunning eyes became pools of blackest ink and they burned from within a face so beautiful, it could mirror that of his immortal mother. Darkness spread like wings of volcanic smoke all around him and his long black hair slithered and coiled like a nest of poisonous vipers.

"You were so mighty," he choked out, voice deep and distorted with unknowable grief. "You were my sun and star. You kept me from this…this…you made me glow…"

He threw back his head and his scream shook the very air. It was the scream of purest fury.

Crimson tears streamed from his eyes and his hands grew into long, metallic talons.

He began to beat his fists against Helios' golden, blood splattered breastplate. His screams grew louder and louder, shriller and shriller.

"How could you do this?" He hissed, punching and clawing at the Olympian forged metal. "Did my happiness mean so little to you?"

The blood which streamed from his black eyes burned like lava.

"I HATE YOU!" He sobbed, soaked in blood. "How could you leave me? I LOVE YOU! Please come back! You can't die! You're a god!"

Helios had saved him.

Once upon a time, the two of them had been lovers, but a jealous god murdered him in his prime just to get back at Helios. Upon learning about this affair, the Queen of the Underworld had manipulated his shade to lure Helios down from the heavens and that was when the titan Atlas had knocked the god from the sky and taken him down to Hades so Persephone could go about unmaking existence.

Upon his release from the Titan, the Underworld was in such chaos, Helios had snatched his shade up into his immortal arms and fled the realm of Hades at the speed of dawn, laughing and kissing away the darkness and madness that haunted him. The golden god had healed him. Helios had reminded him of who he had been and what they had shared once.

He had been a young prince of Sparta, much beloved by Helios. The god loved and cherished him above all others.

"Hyacinthus?"

_My name…_

"You shouldn't be here," the woman's voice startled him. "Kratos cannot be stopped. Not yet…"

He hugged Helios tighter, refusing to be parted from him. He would stay here like this for forever. Time meant nothing to him.

"Please do not stand in the Spartan's way," the woman spoke in a grave tone. "I don't want you to end up like…this…again…"

He shook his head.

"Come with me," she said. "I will keep you."

Her voice was so sad. So very, very sad.

"Where is his head?" Hyacinthus whispered. "I must have his head. He cannot…I need his head."

The woman was behind him now; her hands resting gently on his trembling shoulders. "Helios is no more," she told him softly. "He cannot be healed. Already the scent of death corrupts his flesh."

He felt as though he would go mad if that buzzing got any louder.

"Lift him, my child," the woman told him. "I will take us from this place. We will build a pyre and you may grieve."

The Spartan had his lover's head. He must have taken it as a spoil to show off.

He would kill him!

"Hyacinthus!" The woman snapped at him. "You will do as I command, child. I will not have you taken again."

He turned his head and gazed upon the face of feminine beauty. Her violet eyes were like that of molten jewels and they twisted him inside out.

Her face was so much like his own.

No.

His face was so much liker her own.

"Lift him, child."

Helios was so much bigger than him. How was he going to lift him? Even if he were to strip Helios of his battle armor, the god was still a giant compared to him.

"You are part god," the goddess said to him. "And almost all Fury. Lift him."

Hyacinthus did as he was told. He took a breath and lifted Helios into his arms and stood. It was almost as if Helios weighed nothing.

"I could never move him unless he allowed it, and only if I pouted something fierce." He whispered.

"That which made Helios him is gone now. He is empty, child. Hollow. You can move him how you wish." She replied.

That hurt him.

Aphrodite kept her hands on his slender shoulders and the world before him began to twist, bend and spin around. It felt as if he were made of wind and he held Helios close, even if it was for some sense of twisted comfort.

The goddess never let him go.

OOOOO

The ground shook, but Aphrodite's temple stood firm as another god perished somewhere far off. A pyre had been built and Hyacinthus lovingly placed Helios atop it. He had washed the headless body and anointed it with sweet smelling oils before wrapping it in white linen along with amber, frankincense and Saffron.

He then sprinkled hyacinth petals all around his lover's body. Each petal held his name, just like the god had commanded them too in his most terrible grief.

Pink.

Blue.

Yellow.

White.

Purple.

All the many colors he and Helios had danced in.

He was now feeling like Helios must have. Lost, alone and broken.

As he climbed down, Aphrodite was standing with a torch. He reached the bottom and turned to her. With a nod, she handed it to him and took a single step back.

Hyacinthus stood naked with the torch in hand and began walking around the pyre, setting it ablaze. He stood there, and if it had not been for Aphrodite putting her arms around him, he would have climbed back up the ladder to die.

Within the span of mere moments, Helios' pyre was a towering inferno. It was bright and wonderfully hot.

Memories echoed naked as bone.

_I love you._

_Brighter than the sun?_

_What is brighter than me?_

_Clearly not your smarts._

_Blasphemer!_

Tears fell.

Aphrodite's warm breath tickled his slightly pointed left ear like a dove's feather.

"This is for your own good, my son."

A sharp pain filled his breast and he suddenly felt colder than he ever had before. He gazed with teary eyes into the roaring fire, not feeling the awesome heat it generated, and wondered who had set it. Fire could be dangerous if left unattended.

Perhaps he should call for somebody.

A sweet scent then tickled his nose and the world spun around him as he fell back into the embrace of the goddess.

"We will fix this," she smiled, holding her child. "We have time."

And the fire burned on and on.

**To be continued…**

Please review and tell me what you think.

Flora


	5. Chapter 5

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter Five**

Jacinth was sitting alone on a three-legged stool at the wraparound bar and lifted his head up. He was gazing at all the different colored bottles of liquor as they each sparkled and glittered all along the top shelf. He'd never before seen so much booze in all his life. In fact, he'd never been inside of an actual bar before either. This was his very first time and he wondered what it would be like to actually order a glass of the most expensive stuff _**Danny's**_ had to offer. It probably wouldn't be all it was made out to be like it always was in the movies. It would more than likely be a really big letdown.

Most things in life were anyway.

On the other hand, Danny, the really handsome owner of the bar, was off cooking the food his dad had ordered for them both. He could smell the aroma of beef and chicken being grilled over an open flame from somewhere in the back and it actually smelled really, really good. He was surprised to actually feel his mouth begin to water. He hadn't known he was hungry until just that moment.

His dad had excused himself and stepped outside to fill up the gas tank and check the air in each of the tires. His dad always seemed to get really paranoid when the gas level began to get below the halfway marker. For some odd reason, his dad had this terrible fear of being stranded somewhere with no help. That was why he also kept a large red canister of gasoline in the very back of the van just in case of such an emergency.

He knew the real reason why his dad had gone outside. What they had just seen on the news had been really freaky. Nobody knew if it was real or not because nobody could get close enough to the spot where the giant titan was.

He gazed up at the television, seeing nothing but fuzz. A slight cold chill went down his spine and he shivered. He had no idea why every channel had suddenly gone fuzzy.

It also turned out that Danny was 28 years old. At least that was what it said on his driver's license. His dad hadn't believed the guy's age and asked him to whip it out and show him his date of birth. The look on Danny's face had been pretty funny. The guy had looked as if he were about to start spitting acid at any minute.

He let his gaze turn away from the shimmering amber and green bottles and allowed his violet eyes to settle on a jukebox in the corner of the bar. It was well out of the way and that was why he hadn't noticed it when he first came in. He'd never seen one before in person and he wondered if it worked.

He hopped off the stool and went over to it. It actually looked relatively new and it was filled with all kinds of old and recent music. There was Tori, Bjork, Pink, and there was even some Gaga thrown into the mix.

"Wow," he whispered to himself, pushing down on the green arrow button, switching between each shiny cd.

His eyes sparked when he found a song he hadn't heard in a really, really long time. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a quarter before taking a quick look around the joint.

He doubted anyone would be coming in. They were in the middle of nowhere. Plus, his dad would be out fiddling with the van, making sure nothing was out of whack.

He also doubted it would bother Danny. The guy was in the back cooking them food. And even if the guy did so happen to come out, what was he going to do? Tell him that he couldn't pay a quarter to listen to some music?

The song he happened to choose was a tune his mom used to sing to him back when she was still alive. She would pick him up and dance around the living room.

He smiled at the memory and slipped the quarter into the slot, selecting _Fever Ray_.

A slow beat began to play all around him and he took a step back. The slow beating of a drum and a haunting melody filled the bar.

The place had a really good sound system.

It took him back to those moments where his mom would take hold of his little hands and dance with him around the coffee table and sofa. A few candles would be burning and his mom was always smiling.

_Memory comes when memory's old_

_I am never the first to know_

_Following this stream up North_

_Where do people like us float?_

He didn't notice the pair of crimson glowing eyes watching him as he began to move his body to the beat of the slow rhythm. He opened his mouth; following right along in his mother's footsteps.

She had been such a beautiful woman. Her dancing had been something of myth. No belly dancer or MTV music star could ever hope to dance as well as she could. Michael Jackson could do the Moonwalk. His mother could do the Cosmic 1-2 Step.

_There is room in my lap_

_For bruises, asses, hand claps_

_I will never disappear_

_For forever, I'll be here_

He spun around in a smooth circle, arching his back as far as he could, moving his arms and hands up to the wooden ceiling in graceful gestures that could mesmerize a king cobra. He danced with his eyes closed and a gentle smirk on his face.

_Whispering_

_Morning, keep the streets empty for me_

_Morning, keep the streets empty for me_

It almost felt as though he was little again and could feel his small hands being held by his mother's once more. They had been so soft and very powerful. His mother had been a strong woman; a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. She had been it all. He hoped he could be just like her one day.

_I'm laying down eating snow_

_My fur it hot, my tongue is cold_

_On a bed of spider web_

_I think of how to change myself_

Something was alive in the air. He could feel the energy slithering around him and it was electric. It pulsed and thrummed about him.

_A lot of hope in a one man tent_

_There's no room for innocence_

_So take me home before the storm_

_Velvet mites will keep us warm_

The beat swiftly picked up and his dance became all the more primal, all the more savage. He danced like an eerie nymph around a towering, blazing pillar of molten hot light.

Words swam through his head. Symbols that shimmered and glittered behind closed eyelids. It was a language he thought he knew. Musical and violent. Beautiful and terrible. Words that could shatter mountains and raise oceans. A language that had the power to move stars or blow them out forever.

_Whispering,_

_Morning, keep the streets empty for me_

_Morning, keep the streets empty for me_

His dance was that of falling, burning flower petals. Each step he took was a thorn in someone's battered, bleeding heart.

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

He could smell his mother's sweet perfume and smiled. He opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his snow white flesh.

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

Danny was standing behind the bar and the guy was looking right at him. Those dark eyes of his were glowing red as wine in sunlight.

Jacinth blinked and Danny suddenly looked normal again.

Had it been a trick of the light? Had one of those bottles been reflecting its color?

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

Danny put his large hands down on the bar and leaned forward. "Where did you learn that dance?"

Jacinth was taken aback. "What?"

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

Danny cocked his head to the side and Jacinth realized his long, dark hair was no longer in a ponytail like it had been earlier. The guy's hair was wild. So wild, it reminded him of a lion's mane.

"Who taught you that dance?" He asked. His voice was deeper; echo like.

Jacinth suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. There was some kind of pressure pushing in on him, trying to squeeze him.

"Tell me, boy," Danny smiled and his teeth were so very, very sharp. "Who would teach a little mite like you a dance fit only for a…"

"My mother!" Jacinth shouted, wanting to be able to breathe again. "My mother taught it to me when I was little, before she died."

The invisible force squeezing him lifted ever so slightly. It felt so tangible. It was almost like he could touch it if he could lift his hands to do so.

Those black eyes widened and Danny was suddenly standing right before him, looking down with a severe, searching look. Jacinth felt as if his skin was being peeled away by a really sharp knife in order to reveal the muscle and bone beneath.

"How did you do that?" Jacinth trembled like a small tree in the face of an oncoming storm.

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

Danny lifted his large, strong hands and gently placed his palms on either side of Jacinth's moth white face. Wine red eyes gazed deeply into his violet ones and Jacinth felt as if he were being sucked down deep into something warm and bubbly.

Danny's hands shook ever so slightly.

"_You don't know."_

Jacinth tried to break free from the hypnotic gaze, but it was like a whirlpool. Too powerful and nothing could save him from it.

"Know what?"

"_What has she done?"_

"Who?"

_Uncover our heads and reveal our souls_

_We were hungry before we were born_

A loud blast of thunder nearly deafened him and Jacinth found himself standing all alone in the middle of the bar, looking around like a crazy person.

"Danny!" He shouted, spinning around, looking for him.

The door to his left swung open and in ran his dad. He was soaking wet.

Rain was falling like rocks over his head. Each drop beat against the tin roof like small hammers.

"Where the hell did that come from?" His dad said, shaking his head, sending droplets of water flying everywhere.

Jacinth ran around the bar and threw wide the swinging door, finding Danny standing before a large grill, turning over half a chicken that was smothered in sweet smelling barbeque sauce.

"You're not allowed back here," Danny deadpanned. "Employee's only."

"What was that just now?" Jacinth snarled, stepping cautiously inside. The door swung shut behind him. "Who are you? What are you?"

"I am Dionysus, God of the Vine."

Jacinth nearly stumbled and fell. "What?"

"I am Danny. I am the owner of this bar. Remember?"

"That is not what you said!"

"Are all city people crazy, kid?"

Jacinth narrowed his eyes. This tool was jerking him around.

Danny looked at him and grinned with those sharp white teeth. "My kind of people."

"I am not a kid."

Danny placed down his tongs and gave his long ponytail a flick. "No. _You_ are not."

Jacinth suddenly felt really, really hot and it just wasn't by being in the kitchen. Danny was looking at him and it wasn't an innocent look. It was like the guy was undressing him.

"I'm sixteen."

"Is that what you believe?"

"It is what I am. So, you can stop looking at me like that."

Danny chuckled and Jacinth nearly fell to his knees.

"And just how am I looking at you? Huh?"

Jacinth steadied himself. "You are looking at me…you're looking at me like I'm naked and waiting for you to do something about it."

There were those wine red eyes again. "Lucky for you this is a kitchen."

A flame shot up from the grill, highlighting Danny's bronze flesh for a mere second.

Jacinth swallowed and suddenly felt really brave. "I…"

"You made your choice," Danny cut him off, holding up a hand. "And here you are, haunting me. I guess I deserve it after what I did."

Jacinth gawked. "And you call me crazy? What are you talking about?"

"Your food will be out in a minute," Danny turned away from him. "Are you sure you don't want those onion rings? They're the best you'll ever taste."

Jacinth wanted to strike him for some terrible reason unknown to him. It was as though he was suddenly filled with a sense of rage and anguish. It was like he was possessed by a separate entity or something. This was not who he was.

"Fine," he snapped, turning his back. "And I better not taste rat poison."

He was just about to push the door open when he suddenly felt powerful arms wrap around him from behind. He was pulled back against a rock hard chest and something even harder pressing into him.

Warm breath tickled the back of his neck, causing him to shiver.

Was this some kind of dream? Was he hallucinating?

He froze when Danny whispered into his ear. "Why did you not choose me?"

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once More with Feeling**

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own God of War and I'm not making any money on writing this tale either.

Summary: The spell was just supposed to be for fun. He had no intention of opening a portal and getting himself thrown back hundreds of thousands of years into the mythical past of ancient Greece. Language, MM, OC Violence

**Chapter Six**

The muscular arms holding him against his will could easily crush the life from his bones. All it would take was a little bit of pressure from them to cause him a lot of pain.

"Why did you not choose me?" Danny whispered in his ear. His voice was softer than whispering silk against naked skin, causing him to shiver because it tickled.

Jacinth didn't understand the question.

The guy was obviously insane and could really hurt him. If he were to call out for his dad, not even he would be a match to help him.

Even though he was scared shitless, he managed to speak in a calm and very polite voice. "Please let go of me."

His heart was pounding so hard within his chest.

He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath when Danny began to nibble on the corner of his right ear. "Do you really want me to?" Danny asked, chuckling all dark and dreamy. "I honestly don't think you do."

The bronze giant pressed his hard erection against Jacinth's slender frame and sighed. He smelled of green, growing things and freshly cut grass.

"Answer my question," Danny urged him, voice deep and commanding. "Tell me why you didn't choose me, my Hyacinth."

Jacinth froze in place like a statue made of pure white alabaster. It was as if the air had turned to ice crystals in his lungs and his bones had been sat on fire.

Danny moved his big hands down Jacinth's lean body, causing the distressed teen to moan under his breath. It was such a small sound and Jacinth could feel the crazy man's weeping cock twitch with excitement.

"Did you at least love me somewhat, little prince?" Danny asked, hands stalking ever lower like two lions after wounded prey. "I saw you first, you know. He only wanted you because you were mine. Always looking for the next piece of tail to pound into the blooming foliage."

Such devastating bitterness in his voice. It was terrifying.

_Oh my god! He thinks I'm somebody he knew. This guy is totally of his meds. Why did we have to stop at a place like this for? I could kill Dad._

"I will scream for my dad," he whispered, feeling his face break out into a sweat.

"No, you won't," Danny laughed, hand moving down and into his pants. "Now that I have you again, your body sweats for me. I am your God. Your one and only, my beautiful Hyacinth. You will once again worship at my feet and I will forgive you."

Jacinth was instantly standing on the very tips of his toes when a warm hand suddenly encircled his cock. He was so achingly hard, it hurt. If Danny was to so much as squeeze, he would lose it then and there.

"You sing for my touch," Danny spoke, lips on his neck, teeth playfully nipping his moth white flesh. "You have longed for me like a desert longs for rain."

"Stop," Jacinth pleaded, arching and squirming to get away. "Don't."

Danny squeezed his cock and Jacinth mentally screamed like a siren. A loud boom filled his ears and he fell to his knees panting for air. It was as if thunder had fallen from the sky and smashed into him.

Danny was no longer trapping him. Slowly he turned to look and then he gawked. Danny's boots were on the floor at his feet, but Danny was across the kitchen.

The bronze giant was sprawled on his broad back in the floor barefoot. Something had struck Danny so hard, it had sent him flying out of his leather boots and across the kitchen floor.

He wasn't moving either.

Jacinth quickly snatched up Danny's boots and stumbled to his feet and out the door without looking back. All he could think about was getting as far away from here as he possibly could.

He basically grabbed hold of his dad's hand, telling him they needed to get going. To his stunned relief and some shock, his dad had asked him no questions. He had readily agreed with Jacinth that they should get going and followed him out the door and into the pouring rain.

A few miles down the road, his dad seemed to snap out of his daze and looked over at him from the wheel.

"Where did you get those boots?"

Jacinth looked in his side mirror, seeing nothing behind them. He had taken the boots because he figured it would slow that psycho down. It would be hard to chase after someone while barefoot.

"Just drive," he said, tossing the fragrant boots over his seat.

OOOOO

Aphrodite stood over the unconscious from of Dionysus with her heel pressed firmly down on his windpipe. She dropped the bent frying pan to the floor with a loud clang and rolled her dazzling eyes. It would be so easy to do him some serious harm, but Dionysus was family.

A little-little brother, so to speak. A very naughty little brother.

So, she simply kicked him in the ribs hard enough for bone to crack, which sent him flying across the kitchen to crash against the metallic freezer door. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud, still not moving.

"The boy said no," she giggled, looming over him with crazy eyes and snake-like hair. "And you wonder why he chose Helios? You idiot."

**To be continued…**


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